Inside Britain’s first boutique nursery
Kingsland has a waiting list of three years – but no pupil has even gone through its doors. Anna Tyzack gets an exclusive look at the chicest school in town
It was the epicentre of the Sixties punk and hippy movements, but now World’s End in Chelsea, where Vivienne Westwood had her shop, is soon to be overrun by toddlers. Kingsland, a pre-prep school for two- to five-yearolds, opening in September on this iconic kink on the King’s Road, is destined to be London’s most avantgarde boutique nursery. It even has a bloke at the helm – a rarity in earlyyears education – but as soon as you meet Stuart Bamford, its headmaster and founder, a bouffant-haired Aussie, you realise that he is someone who enjoys bending conventions.
“This area has been inhabited by radicals and poets in the past and I’m hoping to challenge the norm, too,” he enthuses. Tours for prospective parents haven’t even started yet, but already registrations for the 78 places, costing up to £6,000 per term, are closed until 2020. In fact, I am the first non-staff member or worker to cross the threshold into Kingsland’s zany black and white hallway, and I can see that the parents lured by the groovy website’s promise of a “magical environment to learn” will not be disappointed.
Renovation work began in February, and the five-storey building is now a gleaming black, white and pink palace with a miniature ballet studio on the ground floor, the chicest toddler loos you will ever see, and pumpkins growing on the rooftop garden. “These days, everyone wants their homes, shops and restaurants to be pleasant spaces. Schools should be no different,” he says, as we sit in the staff room, which with geometric wallpaper, sofas and a coffee machine, resembles the lobby of a boutique hotel.
Every fixture and piece of furniture is bespoke, from the cupboards with metre-ruler handles and doors that slot conveniently into the walls, to the Sixties-style tables and chairs, and the colourful Himalayan rugs. There are four enormous classrooms – one has a 4.5m (14.8ft) ceiling and a life-size oak tree with a net canopy allowing children to look at books amid the branches. “The whole place is a backstage pass to the theatre,” Bamford says. “The children can be part of their own performance every day.”
It is a universe away from traditional London nurseries in church halls, such as Young England in Belgravia where Princess Diana worked, but Bamford, who has a skull and a silver guitar pinned to his lapel, insists the flashy interiors are not a ploy to win over the parents.
“I don’t see why a children’s space has to mean giant ladybirds on the
wall – it’s one of my bugbears,” he sighs. “We’re responsible for providing a great learning environment that is creative and inspirational for them.”
His pièce de résistance is the imaginarium on the top floor, a
Faraway Tree-style land created by 360-degree projections and surround sound, where the pupils can let off steam on rope swings and surfboards amid a herd of elephants or a snowstorm. “School isn’t just about how to write a sentence or spell or stand out, because life isn’t like that anymore – it’s how they can work in a group, think of the process of the problem, be inquisitive,” explains Bamford, who runs his operation under an umbrella company, Rocket Productions.
So far so wacky, but Bamford has form in education, too. Kingsland’s sister nursery, the Ofsted-rated outstanding Chelsea Pre-prep, which he opened in a church on Park Walk in 2009, is a feeder for Thomas’s Battersea, where Prince George is at school.
“Chelsea Pre-prep was a leap of faith – I set it up aged 30 on a fold-up table, with a desktop printer and eight children,” he explains. “It was hard work, but I had a great team, and when Ofsted inspectors paid a visit six months later, we were ready.”
Bamford, who studied education at university in Melbourne, admits he isn’t the usual type to be found “up the front” in a London nursery. He travelled to the UK initially on a gap year, working as a supply teacher, but soon found himself taking up more permanent teaching jobs, eventually ending up in early years, where he met his wife, Winsy – who helped him to set up Chelsea Pre-prep and now Kingsland.
“I love the UK education system; it’s so renowned, so competitive and it is evolving so much,” he says. At his nursery, the children will follow the usual early years curriculum, but will also be exposed to extra classes in French and ballet, too. “With early years, you have the freedom to immerse a child in their learning experience,” he says.
Such was demand for places at Chelsea Pre-prep that when the lease came up for the nearby Chelsea Conservative Club, with 6,000 sq ft of space, it made sense to develop the brand. The arrival of Bamford’s two sons, Bowie, three, and Jazz, one, had ignited his desire to do something different; in this space, his imagination could run wild.
For all his funky gadgets and progressive ethos, there are still the nerve-racking school assessments to prepare his charges for, as they head to Thomas’s or other private schools such as Wetherby, Kensington Prep and Glendower. “These assessments are a big deal in London,” he says. He will help parents choose the right school for their offspring, but admits: “We can’t teach them to write faster or read faster than their development will allow.” He can, however, help them to thrive in a big group. “We can expose them to drama and music and performance, which will help them to feel comfortable in new environments. If they leave us confident and happy and loving school, then they are ready.”
When Kingsland’s inaugural entry arrives for school in September, they will look every bit the London nursery child – burgundy smocks with white piping and matching rucksacks. Bamford says he will make it his business to learn the name and birthday of every child, and insists he does not employ the “girls in pearls” traditionally associated with classy nurseries. Many of his staff will have come to teaching through a variety of creative and design-led roles. “It’s not their goal in life to marry a banker and leave their job,” he says, adding that at least 25 per cent will be men.
In an area of London where the average four-bedroom family house costs £4.5million, parents presumably don’t blink at the fees, which start at £3,925 for five mornings. Most of the families hail from the surrounding streets as well as Belgravia and Battersea, and Bamford has created a private members’ club for parents of both schools – the Rocket Road Club, an “invite-only” group that “includes CEOS, artists, creators, entrepreneurs, investors and designers”.
Land a place at Kingsland (by getting your child’s name down at birth) and you will not simply be sending your children to a progressive school, but signing up to a social network, too. “In London, you don’t know your neighbours, but you know the parents of your child’s class,” he says. At Kingsland, there will be drinks parties and other social events to give parents the chance to bond, and Winsy is in the process of setting up a dads’ club. “So important for them to be involved,” Bamford says.
After such a decadent pre-school experience, surely reception can only be a disappointment? Bamford shakes his head. Kingsland, he says, is a statement to challenge the norm of what a school experience should be. “It doesn’t have to cost a fortune for schools to be more inspiring – it just requires some creative thinking.”
‘There’s an invite-only group of parents – CEOS, creators and entrepreneurs’